This week the rain stopped falling in Milwaukee. As a matter of fact, I can hear them shoveling the after-effects of the sudden cease in the rain and the introduction of its ugly sister. We are so lucky!
Poppa Jeff was a busy guy this week. I had Meetings about this, and that. I was getting together with friends and go through withdrawal after the end of the Milwaukee Film Festival. All of this took place regardless of me liking it or not.
I was to attend a meeting of an organization in the evening in downtown Milwaukee. It was a cold evening with a persistent wind gushing down the concrete canyon that is Wisconsin Ave and helping the wind chill temperatures to go even lower.
Mistake One: I got on the wrong bus. The route of the bus I was on didn't go as far as I needed to go. I ended up getting off the wrong bus and having to walk about three blocks back to Wisconsin Ave.
Mistake Two: I thought I could take another bus after a short wait rather than trying to walk to my destination. Wrong.
Mistake Three: Thinking I knew where my destination was. Wrong.
I ended up late for the meeting. I was in the wrong neighborhood, looking for the incorrect address and would get help from the most improbable person. I was standing on a side street, after walking another three blocks, and realizing that I'm lost. I fellow sitting in a parked car across the street from "The Mission" yells out his window. "Are you lost?"
I admit I am and tell what I'm looking for. He gets his phone and Googles the name. (Mistake Four: I left my phone at home.) He tells me where he thinks it is and offers to drive me there. I take his offer. While I'm getting in his car, it's obvious he is living in it. The guy tells me he's waiting to get a bed at the Mission. I ask him if taking me to my destination is going to hurt his chances. He tells me not to worry, he doesn't think he's going to get a bed anyway.
We go to the address he has, and all that we see is a church. It will turn out that the group sponsoring my meeting actually has space in the church for their office and was holding the meeting in the church.there. But since I don't know that I gave up. Besides, the session is almost half over at this point.
On our drive to the address he found on Google, he told me he was homeless because he sustained a back injury and wasn't able to work. He had recovered enough that he was actively trying to find a job. I tell my new homeless friend to drop me off, and I would take a bus home. He says, "Don't bother, I'll drive you home."
Now I think I know what most of you are considering. I was crazy to get in that guy's car. I thought of that, and then I thought, why not. I know everyone thinks they can judge somebody's character by just observing them for a short time despite a lot of evidence to the contrary. (Read Malcolm Gladwell's, Talking To Strangers.) I also forget how old and feeble I look to others. There are days when I hardly recognize myself in the mirror when I'm shaving. Frankly, the guy helping me should have been concerned I might die in his car.
I took his offer of the ride home. I gave the guy approximately would I would have paid an Uber Car. He was, by all appearances, a decent guy who was down on his luck. I hope he got a bed at the mission. I know he had enough gas to stay warm that night. Quite the opposite of someone worried about how he was going to make it through the night, he worried about me.
I'm not a musician, but I can play the harmonica.
I play the harmonica. I can not read music, have no formal training and don't have a lot of public performance training, Most of my training, particularly in how to play in a band, came with my association with the members of The Expansion Band.
I play by ear. Meaning somehow I'm inspired to play along with the music not knowing anything but the sound I want to play. (Please refrain from asking why I play with my ear rather than my mouth. I've heard that one before. It was funny the first time, Johnny B.)
What I have learned is great respect for the people who really are musicians and their passion for music, regardless of genre. I know more about film. My interest in both of these arts moved me to go to a showing of a documentary titled, Bluebird.
Bluebird is about the founding of a restaurant located in a strip mall in Nashville. This restaurant becomes the place for songwriters to showcase their music.
One of the things you might know, but rarely think about is the people that make a song popular may not have written the song. The second thing is that some well-recognized stars of the music business started in the industry as songwriters.
I'm not going to go into detail about the history and projected future of this not-so-well-known music temple in Nashville. But I will assure you it's worth watching. Yes, Taylor Swift surprises a bunch of unsuspecting people in the audience with a walk-on appearance. Garth Brooks tells how he was rejected by every label in the recording industry until an executive caught his appearance at the Bluebird.
All fun stuff, but the real heart-tugging stories are about people whom you know nothing about even though you may have heard their songs. It fits the cliche about good drama, You will laugh. You will cry. You will want more.
Poppa Jeff was a busy guy this week. I had Meetings about this, and that. I was getting together with friends and go through withdrawal after the end of the Milwaukee Film Festival. All of this took place regardless of me liking it or not.
I was to attend a meeting of an organization in the evening in downtown Milwaukee. It was a cold evening with a persistent wind gushing down the concrete canyon that is Wisconsin Ave and helping the wind chill temperatures to go even lower.
Mistake One: I got on the wrong bus. The route of the bus I was on didn't go as far as I needed to go. I ended up getting off the wrong bus and having to walk about three blocks back to Wisconsin Ave.
Mistake Two: I thought I could take another bus after a short wait rather than trying to walk to my destination. Wrong.
Mistake Three: Thinking I knew where my destination was. Wrong.
I ended up late for the meeting. I was in the wrong neighborhood, looking for the incorrect address and would get help from the most improbable person. I was standing on a side street, after walking another three blocks, and realizing that I'm lost. I fellow sitting in a parked car across the street from "The Mission" yells out his window. "Are you lost?"
I admit I am and tell what I'm looking for. He gets his phone and Googles the name. (Mistake Four: I left my phone at home.) He tells me where he thinks it is and offers to drive me there. I take his offer. While I'm getting in his car, it's obvious he is living in it. The guy tells me he's waiting to get a bed at the Mission. I ask him if taking me to my destination is going to hurt his chances. He tells me not to worry, he doesn't think he's going to get a bed anyway.
We go to the address he has, and all that we see is a church. It will turn out that the group sponsoring my meeting actually has space in the church for their office and was holding the meeting in the church.there. But since I don't know that I gave up. Besides, the session is almost half over at this point.
On our drive to the address he found on Google, he told me he was homeless because he sustained a back injury and wasn't able to work. He had recovered enough that he was actively trying to find a job. I tell my new homeless friend to drop me off, and I would take a bus home. He says, "Don't bother, I'll drive you home."
Now I think I know what most of you are considering. I was crazy to get in that guy's car. I thought of that, and then I thought, why not. I know everyone thinks they can judge somebody's character by just observing them for a short time despite a lot of evidence to the contrary. (Read Malcolm Gladwell's, Talking To Strangers.) I also forget how old and feeble I look to others. There are days when I hardly recognize myself in the mirror when I'm shaving. Frankly, the guy helping me should have been concerned I might die in his car.
I took his offer of the ride home. I gave the guy approximately would I would have paid an Uber Car. He was, by all appearances, a decent guy who was down on his luck. I hope he got a bed at the mission. I know he had enough gas to stay warm that night. Quite the opposite of someone worried about how he was going to make it through the night, he worried about me.
I'm not a musician, but I can play the harmonica.
I play the harmonica. I can not read music, have no formal training and don't have a lot of public performance training, Most of my training, particularly in how to play in a band, came with my association with the members of The Expansion Band.
I play by ear. Meaning somehow I'm inspired to play along with the music not knowing anything but the sound I want to play. (Please refrain from asking why I play with my ear rather than my mouth. I've heard that one before. It was funny the first time, Johnny B.)
What I have learned is great respect for the people who really are musicians and their passion for music, regardless of genre. I know more about film. My interest in both of these arts moved me to go to a showing of a documentary titled, Bluebird.
Bluebird is about the founding of a restaurant located in a strip mall in Nashville. This restaurant becomes the place for songwriters to showcase their music.
One of the things you might know, but rarely think about is the people that make a song popular may not have written the song. The second thing is that some well-recognized stars of the music business started in the industry as songwriters.
I'm not going to go into detail about the history and projected future of this not-so-well-known music temple in Nashville. But I will assure you it's worth watching. Yes, Taylor Swift surprises a bunch of unsuspecting people in the audience with a walk-on appearance. Garth Brooks tells how he was rejected by every label in the recording industry until an executive caught his appearance at the Bluebird.
All fun stuff, but the real heart-tugging stories are about people whom you know nothing about even though you may have heard their songs. It fits the cliche about good drama, You will laugh. You will cry. You will want more.
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